I Can't Turn Your Soul On
by iHeartJimmyStewart
Summary: Higgins reflects on what he has done as he roams the streets of London, looking for Eliza. From the 1938 movie Pygmalion. Oneshot, Higgins/Eliza. Please read and review! :D


_No, she's a spiteful, wicked little creature. _The thought ran through Higgins' mind over and over again as he roamed the streets of London, looking for his "masterpiece", Eliza Doolittle. Where the devil could she be?

_I can do without her. She's nothing but a flower girl; a piece of dirt. _With resentment, Higgins remembered the last encounter that he had with her, in his mother's house. How dare she tell him to call her Miss Doolittle! He was going to call her what he wished, and that was that.

_Higgins, you're being a perfect little idiot. She'll come back when she has nowhere else to go. _The thumping of his heart and the dreadful feeling that was threatening to overcome him contradicted that thought. What if she _didn't _come back? What if Eliza went and married that ignoramus Freddy? Then Higgins would have to see her at the silly little tea parties that his mother always hosted. Perhaps he would have to treat her like an intellectual equal - that undeserving nitwit - and listen to his mother talk about being _civil _to her.

Civil! As if he didn't treat her nicely. As if he didn't already give her more than she deserved. Even Pickering told him that he ought to be reasonable. Higgins was always reasonable. And if Pickering, a man of good sense, had the nearsightedness to say that, he could only imagine what his mother would say. As Higgins thought about tea parties, it occurred to him that it was at one such gathering that Eliza had made her first public appearance since the beginning of the experiment.

_"The rain in Spain stays mainly in the plain."_

That damn line. It occurred to Higgins that it was the first time that she had seen that fool Freddy. How could he not have noticed the way that idiot was positively drooling over her? Afterwards, there were all the_ maddening_ times when he had come to the house, asking to see her when she was busy - and each time, Higgins had instructed Mrs. Pearce to throw him out.

No, no, no! Eliza couldn't marry him! That guttersnipe, that flower girl, his _masterpiece_, whatever she was, couldn't marry that drooling idiot. Higgins could go over all the logical reasons that he had put together against that relationship until the end of time, but there was one reason - not logical by any means whatsoever - that he kept trying to deny.

When he had told Eliza that he would miss her, he meant it. Higgins would more than miss her, and he loathed to admit it, but he was strangely drawn to her. Yes, it went against all the things that he had told himself. He was a confirmed bachelor, and a man who had said so many times that young girls were stupid. Eliza was no exception. But when Higgins had gone to the jeweller's that day, to rent the things for the embassy ball, he had bought something as well.

A beautiful little ring. He knew Eliza's size too, and there was a rather sly grin on the jeweller's face as Higgins finally settled on a reasonable price after a good deal of haggling. He had intended to keep it away in a corner, and he had started regretting the act of absolute foolishness as soon as he got home. _Why the devil did I have to buy it?_ The thought ingrained itself in Higgins' mind as he hid the ring in one of his drawers. And there it had sat, thankfully evading detection by Mrs. Pearce and Pickering. Until that morning, of course, when he learned that Eliza had bolted. When the door had closed behind the older lady, he hurried to dress and retrieve the ring, hiding it away in a coat pocket.

Oh, if she hadn't run off from Higgins so quickly! He gave up all logical reasoning as he kept walking at a brisk pace, hands planted deeply in his pockets. If she was lost forever, he wouldn't be able to forgive himself. He would regret it deeply if Eliza married Freddy, but he would never admit that he felt that way. Higgins' reasonable side told him that he ought to give up the search for her - she could be anywhere at all in London - but his other side feared that she might be becoming Mrs. Eynsford-Hill at that moment.

_No, she will return. She will return, because she has nowhere else to go. _Higgins told himself as firmly as he could, making his way back to his home, 27A Wimpole Street. Brief snatches of the conversation that they had returned to his memory.

* * *

_"I can do without you." Eliza declared, looking out of the window. Higgins was silent for a moment, contemplating what to say, as he sat up in his chair. For a second, his ego melted and he made a face as he sighed._

_"You'll never ask, I suppose... if I could do without __you__?" He asked. Eliza turned around, wondering if she ought to give in, and admit what she felt. But the memories of Higgins being rude and giving her hell soon won over._

_"You'll have to do without me." She replied._

_"I can do without anybody!" Higgins snapped, getting up from the chair and walking towards the fireplace. "I have my own soul, my own spark of defiant fire." He hesitated for a second, thinking again. "But, uh, I shall miss you, Eliza. I have grown accustomed to your voice and your appearance." He added. "I confess that humbly and gratefully." Higgins walked towards her, hands in his pockets again. "I even like them, rather."_

_"Well, you have them both on your gramophone and your book of photographs. If you're lonely, you can turn the machine on. It's got no feelings to hurt." Eliza said._

_"I can't turn your soul on." Higgins' tone was plainly sincere._

* * *

No, he really couldn't. When he threw the doors open to his living room, the first thing that greeted him was his gramophone, playing some classical music. _Oh, damn it._ Higgins thought to himself as he walked over to it, remembering what Eliza had said about it. With a sudden surge of anger and frustration, he smashed the record.

As Higgins walked over to a chair, to try and think of what he would do next, he accidentally flicked a switch, turning on one of the old recordings, made on the day Eliza had come marching into his house, a Cockney flower girl and nothing more.

"I ain't dirty! I washed my hands and face before I come, I did!" Perhaps Higgins would have to make do with these recordings. Perhaps she was right. Perhaps Henry Higgins was wrong.

"I shall make a duchess out of this draggle-tailed guttersnipe." That was his voice, confident and cocky as usual. If Higgins had only known what this experiment would make him feel like. He could boast all he wanted to, but was it at the price of his feelings?

No, he couldn't take it any more. He couldn't. Higgins reached over and switched the gramophone off, feeling that heartache all over again. He hated that feeling and he despised himself even more for allowing himself to feel that way. _Oh, what have I done? _Higgins lamented inwardly.

"I washed my face and hands before I came." It was unmistakeable, that voice, the way the phoenetics were pronounced. Without a doubt, it was Eliza. He whipped around in his chair, an almost childlike excitement on his face as Higgins realized that all perhaps wasn't lost.

"I did." There she was, standing at the door, a smile on her face. He had never seen her look more beautiful or radiant than at that moment. With the picture of her in his mind, Higgins turned his chair back around, his heart racing again, but in the good way this time.

"Where the devil are my slippers, Eliza?" And as he spoke, his heart did a jump for joy and his fingers reached for a very special possession in his coat pocket.


End file.
